The Most Wonderful Time of the Year…?

Christmas is stressful. There – I’ve said it!  I know there are some staunch Christmas lovers out there, who jump for joy when the merest touch of tinsel begins to adorn the shop displays, and for them, I am glad.  But, for many, it is a challenging season to face, one that demands levels of energy and jollity that sometimes feel impossible to summon.

It can be especially hard if, like me, you’ve faced something hard over a Christmas past, or are facing something as you enter this one.  Singing and celebrating and socialising can sit uncomfortably beside the pain you are trying to process and live through.  It’s 9 years, now, since we lost our baby daughter, at 25 weeks of pregnancy, over the Christmas period.  I have learned a lot and come a long way since that first, traumatic Christmas, so I thought I would gather my thoughts and write a ‘things that have helped me’ blog post, in the hope that it might help others too and give them some ideas for things to help get them through a festive season that feels too hard to face.

1. Along with my husband, I have tried to create new and different Christmas memories, to replace the hard and sad ones that tend to dominate at this time.  These can be as simple as taking the children to a carol service we haven’t been to before or setting aside a day at home to bake mince pies and watch a Christmas movie.  Seeing Christmas through the eyes of my children and helping to make it magical for them has helped me to get through the moments where I feel sad and overwhelmed by the hard memory of ‘that’ Christmas where all the bad and sad stuff happened.

2. I have learned to recognise that December takes a lot of emotional energy from me; I need to keep a close eye on myself and know when to take time out away from it all.  Again this can be really simple.  A week on a desert island or in a spa sounds lovely, but is not practical for most of us (if only!).  But locking the door and having a long, hot bath is something that can really help.  So is turning down an invitation so that I can stay in and read a book. The ‘spoon theory,’ usually used in relation to physical illness, has helped me to understand why this is necessary.  The theory goes that you only have a set number of ‘spoons’ available for use in a day (a ‘spoon’ representing a unit of energy).  Once they are gone, they are gone and you have to do something to replace and replenish them.  For me, December and all things Christmas uses up more ‘spoons’ than the average person, so I have to be gentle with myself and allow my emotional reserves to be built back up.

3. I have to let go of other people’s judgments and expectations – on the whole, they are my perceptions of what people think anyway, and may not be true at all. No-one will ever understand my pain and struggles fully – and neither can I fully understand what others face and feel.  We can’t read each others’ minds, after all.  I count it a great blessing that I have friends who do get it and empathise and walk the tricky paths with me.  But I have to accept that some people will never get it and will always judge and there is nothing I can do to change that, so I have to consciously let go of those concerns and do what I know I need to do to get through.

4. I have to give myself time to remember and be sad.  I have a number of things that help me do this.  One is a playlist of songs related to baby loss, written by other Christians who have walked that path and wrestled big questions about God in it too.  On one morning or afternoon, over the Christmas period, I will have a listen and a cry, think about our baby, then pick myself up and keep going with all the other things life demands.  I don’t think this is unhealthy wallowing – more setting time aside to remember and be sad, rather than ploughing on through without stopping to face it, which leads to an avalanche of emotion later on.  I also have a memory box, containing her tiny wristbands, prints of her hands and feet and some cards and other bits that helped me get through that time.  I will look at them, each year, and mourn, but, also feel increasingly thankful for the help that got me through and for how far I’ve come, since that first, tough Christmas, nine years ago.

We have other, tangible reminders of her too.  One is a little, glass angel, which we hang on the tree, each year, discussing with our boys the sister it represents for them.  Another is a painting of the beautiful pond where we scattered her ashes.  Having these things, as a focal point for the feelings of grief and loss, help them to feel a little more contained, a little less overwhelming, somehow.

5.  I have had to learn to be honest with those closest to me about where I am at and what I am feeling.  Talking with others and letting them know that I need support, prayer, a morning of coffee and cake has really helped me get through the times when emotions threaten to overwhelm.  Keeping it all bottled up, hidden away inside, only makes the darkness feel darker and the pain feel more intense.  Talking and letting people I trust in on my world and my struggles has really, genuinely helped me to feel less alone.  People can’t solve things or change things – but their support can help me face another tricky day.

6. Writing has been a huge help to me, as each Christmas approaches.  It’s not for everyone, but it can be hugely cathartic to get the words out of your head and onto the page.  For me, commemorating our baby in poems and other words, around the time of her birth, has helped me to face the memory, again and again.  And in sharing parts of my story, through blog posts and articles, and, this year, in an interview on a Christian Radio station, too, it has helped me to feel like I am contributing to the worldwide conversation about baby loss and, in doing so, connecting with others experiencing similar traumas and helping them to feel less alone. This year, looking through my old diaries and journals, I found a letter to myself, reminding myself of things I had learned over that Christmas, to help me in Christmases to come.  It was really helpful.  I was amazed at my own wisdom – if only I could remember to heed my own advice as each Christmas season approaches!

7. Lastly, as a Christian, I have learned the value and power of spending time reading bits from the Bible that remind me God holds me and walks with me, even in the hardest of times.  The Psalms are great for that, containing, as they do, the honest, heart-felt laments of others who have walked hard paths before me.  Similarly, listening to songs like ‘Where Were You’ (The Shack Album) and ‘Tell Your Heart to Beat Again’ (Danny Gokey) help me to remember that, as I face these hard memories or any other hard things as I carry on through my life, He will be with me and carry me through those too.

I would love to hear from other people about how they face their hard things at Christmas. Do leave a comment – you never know who else it might help!